Dwayne Johnson is nothing if not game. The marvelously handsome wrestler- turned-actor — proving once again better than the material he takes — dons tights and a baby-blue satin tunic in the slight family comedy “Tooth Fairy.”

Former NHL player Derek Thompson (Johnson) is an enforcer for a minor league team. His nickname on the ice is “the tooth fairy” and the opener reinforces Rodney Dangerfield’s quip about going to a fight and a hockey game breaks out.

When not defanging opponents of an incisor here, a molar there, Derek has no problem divesting kids of their dreams.

When he does this to the wee daughter of his girlfriend Carly (Ashley Judd), he’s in for a humbling. Swept up into the tooth fairy world, he’s pressed into a version of community service by head administrator Lily (Julie Andrews).

Even as Derek learns the ropes of tooth fairydom, he still has human hurdles to clear. He must bond with Carly’s kids, toothless sweetie Tess (Destiny Grace Whitlock) and Randy (Chase Ellison), a sulky teen.

He must also deal with his hockey team’s new wunderkind, Mick (skateboarder Ryan Sheckler), a guy even cockier than he is.

Johnson’s got appealing comedic timing, a dazzling smile, and he looks unbelievably good in tights. Still, his gifts have been better used in other outings, such as “The Rundown,” “Be Cool,” even Richard Kelly’s weirdfest “Southland Tales.” This vehicle’s treads are worn.

Johnson isn’t the only sport lending right effort to this flawed fairy tale. Andrews has stern charm as Lily. And Stephen Merchant brings swift-talking loopiness to Tracy, a wingless fairy and Derek’s caseworker.

Five writers with impressive credits (“Mrs. Doubtfire,” and “City Slickers” among them) worked — and reworked, no doubt — this formula of redemption. Still no magic.

Typically we don’t agree with the saying that puns are “the lowest form of humor.” We like them; they make fine headlines. But while there are a couple of surprises, the puns are overly relied upon for chuckles.

Billy Crystal adds vintage vaudeville yuks in a cameo. He’s James Bond’s Q of the tooth fairies, introducing Derek to the tools of the trade.

How bizarre it is that two very different flicks of winged characters open today. “Legion,” about warrior angels bent on our destruction, flaps into multiplexes, too. They didn’t screen that apocalyptic tale in time for a homegrown review, so who knows?

But “Tooth Fairy” suggests just how hard it can be to honor the imaginations of children with good material, Even for a movie about protecting their “what ifs” and make beliefs.